


my heart was never pure

by torigates



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zatanna and Dick trade spells for sex. Yep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my heart was never pure

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely empressearwig's fault. Wouldn't it be great if Zatanna and Dick traded spells for sex, she said. No, I said! They're babies, god! I can't think of them that way! But then Dick Grayson had shoulders, and this idea wormed it's way into my head, so casual reminder that stupid asshole was born in 1997. IF I HAVE TO SUFFER, YOU ALL HAVE TO SUFFER!!
> 
> Dick and Zatanna's relationship in this is based off of two things. 1) Dick's "We have history," line, and 2) Jess' portrayal of them in [let me be your ride out of town](http://archiveofourown.org/works/495082). You should go read that, if you haven't already because it is magnificent. This was supposed to be a light, sexy fic. Instead, feelings crept in.

It starts, Zatanna doesn’t want to say innocently, because nothing about her relationship with Dick could be considered _innocent_ , but it starts innocuously. Neither of them mean for it to happen. At least, Zatanna never meant for it to happen. She can’t speak for Dick, obviously, and she never outright asks. 

He comes to her, and Zatanna knows how hard that is for him. To reach out, to admit weakness. Perhaps that’s why she was such a bitch about it, or maybe that’s just her personality. 

“I need a favour,” he hedges, and Zatanna grins. 

She’s sitting at one of the consoles in the Cave, going over surveillance footage. Batman had given them all individual assignments for the case he was working on. Dick liked to claim that the Bat was just trying to teach the team his “world’s greatest detective” skills, Wally claimed (and Zatanna secretly agreed with him) that Bats just didn’t want to do the grunt work. 

Surveilling was boring. It was so boring Zatanna was going slightly out of her mind. Of course, it never did any good to let Dick see that, so she looked up at him lazily, before glancing down at her fingernails. 

“It’ll cost you,” she said eventually. 

Dick rolled his eyes, but Zatanna knew him well enough by now to know he was fighting off a grin. 

“I need a spell.” 

Internally, she perked up a little. Externally, she only quirked an eyebrow. “How may I be of service?” 

Dick looked at her, and she fought down a blush. 

“Get your mind out the gutter, Grayson.” 

He stared at her for a moment before launching into a detailed explanation of what he needed, why he needed it, and when he needed it by. It was a simple enough spell, and by the time he was done speaking, Zatanna had already gone through most of the mental preparations in her head. 

She kicked out the chair next to her, and motioned for him to sit. “This’ll take a few minutes,” she explained. 

Zatanna worked quickly and efficiently, and when she was done, she handed over the small physical manifestation of her concentration, power, her _magic_ to Dick. 

“Be careful with that,” she told him seriously. 

“I will,” and met her eyes. Their relationship was almost ninety percent made up of the two of them snarking at each other. Of sass, and sexual tension, and one upmanship, and Zatanna enjoyed every second of it (well, maybe not _every_ second of it). But there were also moments like this one, quiet moments where they just _understood_ each other with such fierce intensity that even though these moments were maybe her favourite part of their relationship, they were so overwhelmingly terrifying. 

“You owe me one,” she said, breaking the tension. 

Dick grinned. “I’ll pay you back,” he promised, and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. 

She’s not really sure what made her do it, other than the fact that’s it’s been a while. In the end, it doesn’t really matter why, just that she _does_ , and Zatanna reaches out, curls her fingers around the back of Dick’s neck, and slots his mouth against hers. 

Kissing Dick is familiar. Not only that, but it’s _good_. The kissing, well, that’s never been their problem (as to _what_ their problem is, well, Zatanna has neither the time nor the inclination to get into it now). His mouth is firm, and wet, and _hot_ against hers, and she licks into it without abandon. Distantly, she hears a rumble in the back of his throat, and his arms come up automatically around her, the palms of his hands pressing flat against her shoulders. 

Zatanna arches her back, pressing their chests together, and turns the kiss dirty. She bites at Dick’s lips, and sucks on his tongue. It’s fast, and hot, and good, and after a long moment she pulls away, pats his chest. 

“Okay,” she smiles. Dick looks dazed. “Now we’re even.” 

 

\- 

 

That’s how it starts. 

And, okay. It’s tricky, Zatanna gets that. It’s always complicated between her and Dick, and when you add sex into the equation it makes things worse. When you add sex for trade, well. Let’s just say Zatanna was facing some seriously uncharted territory. 

It wasn’t. It wasn’t like she was a hooker (though she would be a fan-fucking-tastic hooker, thank you very much), it was just, she was trading sex for things. Though technically _Dick_ was the one selling his body to get something he wanted in exchange, so if anyone were going to be a hooker in this fucked up (ha ha pun intended) little situation they had going it would be him, not her. 

After the first time, there was the second time, which involved Zatanna casting a quick concealment spell ( _meht morf su edih_ ), and her and Dick getting to second base in a broom closet ( _what_ , they were hiding, god). 

That was fine. It was fine. How did the saying go? Once was happenstance (or hormones, you know, whatever), and twice was just coincidence. That was all it was. 

Except--it wasn’t. After the second time there was the third time. The third time started with Zatanna performing an observation spell ( _netsil su tel_ ), so they could listen in on some minor villain’s minor plot, and ends up with Zatanna straddling Dick’s lap in the back of their--well, normally she’d say surveillance van, but she wasn’t sure Dick actually did anything that low brow. 

He got her off with two of his fingers moving deep inside her, his thumb circling her clit, and after, while she panted hot and wet against his neck she could only think, _three times is a pattern_. 

 

\- 

 

Which leads her to now. Zatanna is flat on her back, her legs strewn over Dick’s shoulders, his mouth hot and fast, hard and wet against her, and she bucks her hips helplessly as he licks into her, her hands tangled in, and pulling roughly on his hair, but he won’t let her come. She whimpers a little, and she can _feel_ him smile next to her flesh. 

“You are a bastard, Grayson,” she bites out. 

 

 

\- 

 

After the third time, Zatanna sort of just accepted it. She was getting what she wanted. Dick was getting what he wanted. Or, well, he was getting the _spells_ he wanted. It was sort of an unspoken agreement between them that whenever Zatanna provided him with a spell, he provided her with an orgasm she was under absolutely no obligation to reciprocate. Under normal circumstances Zatanna had absolutely no problem returning the favour. She enjoyed it, even. Thrived off it. But these times, the times when Dick came to her for something, something only she could do, she gave him what he needed, and she didn’t have to give him anything more than that if she didn’t want to. 

There was no predictability to when they would do this. Dick would come to her not always as a last resort, but occasionally, and sometimes he’d pay her back on the spot, and other times it wouldn’t be until days, or even weeks later. Zatanna enjoyed being in control. She enjoyed being in charge, she enjoyed putting him where she wanted him, it made her feel strong and powerful, sure and sexy. It made her wanted, needed. 

 

\- 

 

“Hey, Z,” Dick said. “I need a favour.” 

Zatanna was sitting at a console in the cave, and it was so reminiscent of that first time he came to her, she was briefly overwhelmed with the strongest feeling of deja vu. This time, she’s not working on a mission for Batman, she’s just messing around on the internet (... what, the Cave gets better service than nearly anywhere else on the _planet_ ), and she’s not even on the team anymore. She’s a full fledged member of the Justice League. But the Cave would always feel like home in ways that her shitty New York apartment never would. The Cave felt like home like her old house, the one where it was just her and her dad, and sometimes she still came here just for that feeling. 

It still feels strange. 

“What is it?” she asks, looking up. 

He sits down next to her. “I need a favour,” he repeats. “It’s a big one, and I need you to not ask me what I need it for. I know that goes against pretty well everything you stand for, but I just--” He trails off, and Zatanna needs to reach out and touch him. She hasn’t seen him look like this in as long as she can remember. Tired, desperate, needy. Scared. “I just need it.” 

She squeezes his hands. “Okay,” she says. “Tell me.” 

“I need a spell. Something that will disguise someone for an extended period of time. I don’t know how long exactly, but ideally indefinitely is what I’m going for.” 

“Dick--”

He cuts her off with a small shake of his head. “Can you do it?” he asked. 

She sighs, but doesn’t ask. She should. She knows that she should. She knows that she should press him for the answers, find out what’s really going on, but she doesn’t. 

“I can,” she says. “Give me a few days.” 

He finds her less than a week later at her shitty one bedroom apartment. 

“Hey Z,” he says when she opens the door, and Zatanna is struck again by how tired he looks. She thinks again she should push him for the whole truth, thinks maybe he would tell her if she asked now. But she promised not to ask questions, and this thing between them only works when they both keep their promises. 

“Come on in,” she says, and walks to her bedroom. 

She grabs the pendant off her bedside table and hands it to him, explaining how it works. Dick puts it in his pocket, and smiles weakly at her. 

“Thanks, Z,” he says. “I owe you one.” 

Zatanna thinks that might be it. That he might walk out the door, and whatever agreement they had between them was over. 

Instead, Dick pulls off his jacket, putting it on the chair by her door, and squared his shoulders. Zatanna only had a moment, a second to take a breath, and then he was kissing her. His lips were dry and urgent against hers, and when she gasped he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, before trailing a string of kisses along her jaw, and biting softly at the spot behind her ear. 

Zatanna hadn’t even realised they were moving until her knees hit the back of her bed. Dick’s hands move to her waist, stroking the skin there and she shivers against his touch. His fingers still on her body for a moment before reaching to unbutton her pants. He pushes the fabric down over her hips and thighs, and Zatanna steps out of them, before leaning back on the bed. Dick kneels down in front of her, and kisses the inside of her thigh softly, before licking a long stripe from her knee all the way up to the crease in her hip. He sucks hard and bites down sharply, and Zatanna bucks up against him. He grins up at her, and she rolls her eyes. 

He presses firm fingers under her knee, and tucks her left leg over his shoulder. She puts her other foot flat on his chest, and he grips her ankle with both hands before running his fingers up along her calf, stopping briefly to tickle the back on her knee, and then kisses her leg. She stretches it out and he reaches up to pull her panties down over her hips and off her leg. They dangle uselessly from her knee that is still wrapped around her neck. 

Normally sex between the two of them is loud. They laugh and joke and talk. Now it’s quiet, intense. Dick breathes against the skin on her legs, and then without warning leans forward and sucks on her clit. She shouts, breaking the silence. He continues as if he hadn’t noticed, working her fast and hard, and _wet_ , and she can’t stop the sounds escaping from her mouth, doesn’t want to. 

She pulls on his hair, but he won’t let her come. 

“You are a bastard, Grayson,” she bites out. 

She feels him smile against her, and she groans, bucking her hips a little trying to get more friction, anything that will help. It doesn’t. Instead he pulls back even further, and she can’t stop the groan of frustration that escapes from her mouth. 

He chuckles, and Zatanna thinks seriously of murdering him. He kisses the inside of her thigh again, and runs the pads of his fingers up and down her leg, drawing goosebumps. 

“Dick.” She means for it to come out as a command, a hurry the fuck up and get on with it. It comes out closer to a whine, and Zatanna will not beg, she won’t, she has more pride than that. She’ll throw him out and finish herself off before it comes to that. 

Luckily, it doesn’t. “Yeah,” he says, and places a palm on the flat of her stomach. She’s still wearing her shirt and bra, but he slides his hand up her torso and brushes his thumb along her skin up against the underwire of her bra, and pinches a nipple through the fabric. He leans in again, kisses her gently once, before licking her. He sucks on her clit, and she whines in the back of her throat. She pulls on his hair, trying to hold him in place, and before she can fully register what’s happening, he slides two fingers into her, fast and rough. Her back bows off the bed, and he fucks her earnestly with his fingers, his mouth moving against her, and she can’t--she’s going to come. 

“Dick,” she gasps. “Dick, god, don’t stop.” 

He doesn’t. He fucks her relentlessly through her orgasm, and keeps going even when she’s done. She has to roll away from him after a moment, she feels too sensitive, raw. 

After a minute he crawls up on the bed next to her, and wraps an arm around her waist, kisses her collarbone, her neck. She ducks her head and catches his mouth in a gentle kiss, and reaches down between them to palm the front of his jeans. 

“No,” he says, even though he’s hard. 

She pulls back and arches an eyebrow. 

He just leans forward again and kisses her once, twice on the mouth. “Not right now,” is all he says. 

Zatanna feels again that she should push. She should ask him again for more information, make her tell him what’s going on. She opens her mouth to say something, but there’s a look in Dick’s eyes that stops her. He looks overwhelmed, lost. She doesn’t want to put more on him, not when he puts the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

Instead, she cups his cheeks in the palms of her hands, and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. He looks relieved, and she pulls him to her. He buries his face in her neck, and they stay like that for a long moment. 

When they finally do move, Zatanna pulls on her underwear, and Dick picks his jacket up off the floor. 

“Everything okay?” she asks. 

He nods once. “Yeah,” he says. “Yes.” 

Zatanna knows that she should push. She does not.


End file.
